


Gorgeous Hunk of Wizarding Maleness

by emansil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emansil/pseuds/emansil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds his obsession with Draco may cost him his abilty to complete an assigmnent, but then he learns Draco may be having the same problem. .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gorgeous Hunk of Wizarding Maleness

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a 2 hour time limit speed pronz. No betaing, except SPaG was allowed. A fun and extremely relaxing way to write.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: HP belongs to the lovely British lady currently residing in even lovelier Scotland, not me.

Gorgeous Hunk of Wizarding Maleness

Harry finally found the book; he’d been looking for all bleeding afternoon, or what felt like all afternoon. It had probably actually only been a few minutes. Of course, it would have to be on the very top shelf. Waving his wand, he cast a quick _accio_ on the book, only to watch in amazement as the volume in question sailed past him.

Stymied, Harry followed the course the book was taking with his eyes, when the book turned the corner. Not having learned how to see through walls, or around the corner, Harry had no recourse but to chase after it with his own feet.

rounded the corner to see Malfoy, correction Draco (Harry was trying to think He of him more as Draco instead of Malfoy. As they were both in the Auror program, it seemed only fitting). Draco reached up and grabbed the book out of the air. With a sigh of satisfaction, he settled back and poured something steaming out of the pot on the table. Coffee or tea, Harry wasn’t sure, and opened the book.

“Malfoy, I mean Draco. What the fuck? That book is mine,” Harry said, perplexed, but not yet irritated.

“Really? Does it have your name on it anywhere?” Draco picked up the book. He turned it upside down, sideways, checked the back and the edges. He even opened the book up and shook for any loose pages to fall out.

“Funny, I don’t see the name Harry, or Potter, or even ‘the git who saved us all from a horrible fate’ anywhere. Nope, it’s nowhere to be found,” he quipped, looking one more time. 

“Ha, ha, very funny, Malfoy,” Harry said easily slipping into past behaviours. “I’ve been looking for that book all bleeding afternoon.” _I really need to expand my vocabulary of swear words_ , Harry thought in passing before he continued. “I was just _accioing_ the book when you stole it out from under me.” He frowned.

Draco laughed and Harry was momentarily distracted from his anger to think how lovely Draco’s laugh was, even when it was directed at him. “Seriously, Harry, did you never think of _accioing_ the book as a method of finding it?” 

At Harry’s red and embarrassed face, because no, he had not thought of such a thing, although it would have been by and far the more logical means of obtaining what he wanted, Draco laughed again, this time more gently.

“So tell me, Harry, just exactly how was it you defeated the Dark Lord again? Because it sure wasn’t your superior magical – or even non magical – thought process.”

“I guess I wasn’t thinking,” Harry replied refusing to take the bait. “But really, I need that book. I’ve got an essay to finish by Monday.” 

Draco glanced at Harry, and raised his eyebrows. “I’m aware of that, Potter. I’m in the same class as you. Our essays are on the same topic. Did you not hear my name along with yours when the assignments were given?”

“Don’t suppose it’s possible for him to call me Harry?” Harry muttered under his breath, then continued in a louder voice. “I guess I wasn’t listening.”

“What? What did you say?” 

“I _said_ I wasn’t listening.” And it was true, he had not been listening. Instead, he had been concentrating on how pretty and shiny Draco’s hair was with the afternoon sun shining in the western window. It almost looked like platinum. It looked like the platinum engagement ring Ron had given Hermione two months ago. It was spun silver. He’d been so engrossed he’d completely missed the assignment. 

Thank Merlin Ron had questioned if Harry had started his essay yet. At Harry’s startled look, his best mate had taken pity on him and filled him in. He’d also told him the essay, 24 inches, was due Monday morning.

“If you knew about the assignment the whole time, why did you wait so long?” Harry asked, perplexed. It wasn’t like Draco. He was usually at the top of his studies in the Auror training, especially the book learning part. Whereas Harry took to the practical side of training like a duck to water, Draco was leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else in theory. Of course all that first-hand knowledge of the Dark Arts probably gave him an advantage just as Harry’s being in the line of fire for seven years had taught him a thing or twenty about defensive spells.

“I was waiting for you,” Draco said. 

“What? But how did you know when I would get here? I could have come and already checked the book out two days ago.”

Draco raised his eyebrows again and grinned. Harry wasn’t sure it was a look he especially liked on Draco. Oh, the grin was okay, kind of sweet actually, but he could do without the raised eyebrows. “You could have, but you didn’t. Besides, I put a spell on all the entrances to notify me when you arrived. Then I simply calculated how long it would take you to find the book. Based on the factoring in of how long it would take you to stop and drink a cup of tea, look at the new art work by Dean Thomas being displayed on the ground floor, and then stop and send an owl to the female Weasley. After that you’d have to stop in the loo to get rid of the tea you just drank, you’d clean your glasses, and make yet another useless attempt to tame your hair. Suddenly realizing you’d never be able to finish this essay by yourself by Monday, you’d stop and fire call Granger asking for her help. At which point you would receive a fifteen minute lecture about putting things off until the last minute.”

“It was a twenty minute lecture,” Harry grumbled.

“What? Oh I see, well then I guess it was a good thing I, myself, had a bit of wardrobe malfunction and arrived late myself. It would never have worked if I’d got here too early and already had the book at the table. It was vital that you followed the book to my table. Arithmancy does come in useful at times, I must admit.”

“But I don’t understand. Why? Did you just want to flaunt it over me that you’d finish and I wouldn’t?” Harry was still stymied that other than the fact that it was Ron, not Ginny, that he’d sent the owl to, Draco had every single detail of Harry’s time since arriving at the library right on target. How had he known all that?

“You really are a piece of work, Potter, oh sorry I mean Harry. No, I’m not wanting to flaunt it. I want us to work together, and I knew the only way I could get you to agree would be if you had no other choice.”

“But why?” Harry said yet again, beginning to sound like a broken record in his own head.

“Because, I fancy you, you blind deaf and dumb prat,” Draco snapped in frustration. All his attempts to be understanding just about disappearing in his annoyance. 

“Can we do that? I meant, is it allowed? YOU WHAT?” Harry yelped having finally understood what Draco had just said.

“Yes we can; as a matter of fact, it’s encouraged. They want to see how well different trainees work together. What exactly were you thinking or doing when Kingsley was going over the assignment?”

Turning a deep shade of scarlet, Harry mumbled. “I was looking at how pretty and shiny your hair looked in the sunlight.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Draco asked, coming to stand directly in front of Harry.

“Because I fancy you, too,” Harry sighed and looked at his feet. He then glanced at Draco’s shoes, which didn’t exactly look regulation. “Malfoy, is that Velcro, on your shoes?”

“Yes, well that wardrobe malfunction I was speaking of earlier. Bloody Muggle shoes came untied and in my hurry to get here I broke the laces. I had to do something, then I remembered the show and tell you did on Velcro in Muggle studies. So I accioed some and used it on my shoes.”

“That was four years ago, at Hogwarts.”

“Well, it was a fascinating subject, I remember I was spellbound by it.”

“Uh huh, right. Where did the Velcro come from?”

“I’ve no bleeding idea. Enough about the bleeding Velcro, I found it, and it seems to be working just about as well as you said it would. Makes a bleeding annoying noise though. Come and sit down. We’ve an essay to write.” 

Harry wondered if his vocabulary was rubbing off on Draco, or if he’d picked up the overuse of the word ‘bleeding’ from Draco. Either way, he was thinking of asking about the Build a Better vocabulary program Hermione was always after him and Ron to start.

 

They spent the next four hours in the library together – reading, discussing, arguing, writing, critiquing, erasing, rewriting, making suggestions and corrections until they both were completely satisfied with the final product. Draco returned the book to the proper shelf and Harry spell dried the parchment. Harry had done the actual writing as he’d discovered that Draco’s handwriting was the one place where the elegant and neat Malfoy’s way came to a complete stop. Draco’s was the worst chicken scratch Harry had ever seen. Thinking he really wanted their trainer to be able to read the report, Harry had volunteered.

They’d packed their bags, and left the library just at the night guard, a House Elf named Bobby, was locking it up for the night.

“I’m starved,” Draco said as his stomach grumbled in a very unMalfoy-like manner.

“Yeah, me too, but then again I’m always hungry.” 

“How about we get some dinner together? Unless you’ve got other plans? You and the she Weasel, I’m sorry, I mean _Ginny,_ may already have plans for the evening,” Draco said nonchalantly but looking at Harry like he just might tear up if Harry said no.

“Ginny and I broke up.”

“Really? When and why, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“I called out someone else’s name in the throes of passion,” Harry answered looking at Draco sideways.

Draco guffawed, “Really, do tell, I bet that went over good. I’m surprised you aren’t sporting a bat-boogey hex. You aren’t are you? Whose name was it?”

Harry stopped and looked at him steadily and unblinking until Draco grew uncomfortable under the intense gaze before turning bright pink and exclaiming, “Oh!”

“Told you I fancied you. Have for a while. I guess I got too caught up in one of my fantasies while Ginny was giving me head.”

“So what did you say, exactly?”

“My exact words were ‘Oh yeah Draco, that’s right suck my cock, you gorgeous hunk of wizarding maleness,’” Harry said as he turned even pinker than Draco.

“Oh, mmm, well. I see, very nice. I can see how one’s girlfriend would take offence over something…” Draco was trying his best to keep a straight face, but finally could not hold it in any longer. He was soon laughing until tears were streaming down his face. “Oh, fuck, where’s the loo? I’m about to pee my pants, and Malfoys never, ever pee their pants. Oh gods, tell me you didn’t really say that.”

“I did and I meant it. Let’s go find that loo. I want to see if you’re as good in reality as you are in my fantasies.”

Soon moans and groans and whimpers and panting could be heard from the men’s room on the first floor of the Auror’s building. Bobby, it seemed, was a second cousin of Dobby’s and let them back in the building after bowing and scraping and promising to iron his ears for having not recognized Harry immediately. 

Not long afterwards Harry could be heard shouting these words, “Oh yeah, Draco, that’s right suck my cock, you gorgeous hunk of wizarding maleness.”

Draco found the words to be quite endearing and motivating. He put forth a first class effort, his best ever at cock-sucking. And Harry found the reality to be even better than his fantasies.

the end


End file.
